Actions
by Dragonic Queen of Roses
Summary: Kai Hiwatari is cold. He things about his life and the voice's wishes are his commands.Warning: Suicide


This one shot was edited so that it wouldn't give you a nose bleed with its atrocity.

Disclaimer: I don't own beyblade.

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Kai Hiwatari walked down the street, thinking, about his life, his friends, his team and the sprot he loved so much. He had recently left the Demolition Boys,for personal reasons. Not that he hadn't enjoyed their company, they were like brothers to him but his memories of the time before he escaped were too unberable. After leaving his team, Kai rejoined his friends, the Bladebreaks, who received him with open arms, after he had deserted them in such a fashion. Though that happiness didn't last long and soon, too soon to be actually true, the team broke up, they moved onto separate ways.

Here he was then, walking through the streets of Moscow, Russia, on a cold winter night, the snow falling hard and cold, chilling him to his bones, though he doubted there was much more to freeze, even the blood running in his veins seemed frozen as he walked, feeling limp and weak. But he didn't care, it wasn't important, the cold was just a minor detail. Upon arrival at his apartment, a small piece of house, almost not worthy of the dirtiest mouse, he climbed the stairs, each step hurting as much as a thousand ice cristals stabbing his legs. The path to his door seemed long, endless but finally he got there. A pale hand reahce dinto a cold pocket, a key being pulled out. Kai sorted through his keys, finding, with difficulty, the correct one. A mouse ran by.

There was a small, soundless, click as the key turned in the lock, unlocking it. Kai pushed open the door and immediatly felt the scarce heat that his home offered him. With tiredness reflected in his crimson eyes, the Russian hanged his coat and scarf on the hanger by the door, removing his boots and putting on some slippers.

He moved to the bathroom, a warm shower sounding inviting, almost like a forbidden fruit, but the bathroom was cold, and Kai had to hold himself for some warmth. It was misery. And he hated it. Every day was worse than the other, the cold only grew, his job only moved harder on him, his money wasn't enough for the bills, he had no friends, no family, and the recent news of Voltaire's murder didn't help either, knowing that the assassin stole all of his granfather's money. Not that he would really have wanted it but it could have helped him. The phone rang. Three rings, was all it took for the answering machine to beep and say "Kai Hiwatari here. Leave your message after the beep." another beep _«Hey Kai, it's Tala here, just wondering where you were, how you're doing. We are fine here, wishing you were with us, we were fred, it's a new life. Call me back...please?»_ there was teh last beep "Tala..." he whispered, looking into the mirror. The otehr had sounde dso sad by the end of it, he wondered how they got in better sheets than he did. Not that he wished them any of what he had.

But he had nothing.

His hand reached foward, touching the cold glass of the mirror. The russian cringed. Cold, frozen, like the snow outside. Like himself. The pale fingers slid down... wrapped around a small knob. He opened the cabinet. Inside there were several bottles and some higene proper stuff. He quinted his eyes to read a label «_anti-depressive»_ it said. It seemed just right. He puled out the bottle and opened, hearing a pop as the cork gave in, allowing him to spill some of the pills on his hand. He was desperate enough to take those. A good ammount, maybe it would help. With a gulp of water from the faucet he took the pills , swallowing them one by one, a continuous, hard and uncomfortable task.

A minute passed...

Kai was feeling rather sleepy, almost dizzy. He heard a voice. His wet hand reached inside the lower pcoket of his pants and pulled out a protection device, a pocketknife, which he didn't take long to open _«do it...»_ the voice again _«do it...you know you want to...»_ He stared at his wrists "Yes...I want..." he mumbled, watching his reflection on the cold steel blade. It looked so sharp _«It won't hurt..do it...do it, Kai...»_ the voice whispered at him.

It was then as if a hand had touched his, forcing the knife down. A long, slow gash and blood, crimson liquid of life. It flowed as if by a magical force. He watched the crimson flow into the skin, he could see himself reflected there. Sudenly there was a jolt and he...lost his balance. The cold wall caught him and he moaned. He felt weak, each time weaker.

Realisation, cold hard truth, it hit him. Hard as he wildly stared at his wrist, barely having the energy to do so.

**"What have I done!"**

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There you go, all edited and ready for consumption . 

I would apreciate if you read and reviewed, please, it's important to me.


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